He's Hurting Me
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: Faberry. Quinn is in an abusive relationship. Rachel is the only one who steps in to help. Future fic that explores the past.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Well, this is the first chapter of a multi-chapter fic. It bounces around time wise, but it'll all come together. Don't worry. :)

* * *

><p>"I have <em>no<em> say in this."

"What are you talking about? Of course you do! It's _your_ life. Not his."

"I'm sorry. This is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do."

* * *

><p>"Miss? Excuse me, miss?"<p>

The blonde snapped back to attention. She looked toward the elderly woman behind her in line. She blinked slowly and switched the child in her arms to the other side.

"The line's moving," the woman said, indicating for Quinn to step forward.

"Thanks."

Quinn forced a smile and pushed her cart forward. The line needed to be moving faster. She looked around the store. The other two open lanes were also long. She was better off waiting here. She wished she had some way to get to the front of the line.

"That looks painful."

The elderly woman was talking to her again and Quinn turned slightly to look at her. "Hm?"

"Your arm." She pointed at the bruises.

Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat and tugged her sleeve down, covering the spot. "Yeah. Skiing. Last weekend. I'm not very good." She offered another smile and turned away from the woman completely. She stepped up in line.

"Your son is adorable."

Trying not to heave a sigh, the blonde smiled back at the woman. "Thanks."

"What's his name?" the woman reached out and touched the toddler's arm.

"Alex." At the mention of his name, Alex said a shy "hi" to the woman.

"He's so sweet." The woman smiled at the boy, then looked to Quinn. "Is he your first?"

"No," she tried to keep her tone firm enough to indicate that she really didn't want to be talking to a stranger. "I have a daughter."

"I had two boys and three girls," the woman told her.

"That's... a lot," Quinn replied and bounced Alex a little. He seemed to be getting tired. She needed to get home.

"Not back then it wasn't," the woman said with a smile.

Quinn smiled back and was thankful that it was finally her turn in line. She quickly unloaded the few items in her cart while balancing the boy. She cursed the slow movements of the woman behind the cash register. The blonde checked the time on her phone. She had to get home.

As soon as she paid, she was out the door, carrying the bags while still holding the boy. He snuggled against her and placed his face into her neck.

"We'll be home soon, baby," she told him as she practically sprinted to her car. She fastened Alex into the car rapidly and noticed the boy's green eyes beginning to droop in his sleepiness.

Quinn pulled out of the parking lot and cursed every time she caught a red light on the way home. She was speeding most of the time, even though she knew she shouldn't have been, especially with Alex in the car. By the time she got home, she knew it was too late. She took her time getting her son from the car and carrying the bags inside.

The house was quiet when she entered. She set her bags in the kitchen. She needed to get started on dinner. She didn't see her husband or daughter. After Quinn placed Alex in his room for his nap, she moved toward the kitchen.

Quinn jumped at seeing Michael there. He looked calm, his blue eyes set on her. He cleared his throat as Quinn moved to unpack the bags, trying to act nonchalant. Michael ran a hand through his brown hair and stepped in her way, coming into her space.

"You're late," he said softly.

"I'm sorry." The blonde felt panicky. She looked up into those blue eyes. "There was a long line at the grocery store and—"

"I gave you twenty five minutes," he cut her off sternly.

Quinn looked away now. She didn't want to seem like she was challenging him. "If the line wasn't so long..."

"I don't care," Michael told her. "It's your responsibility to be home when I say you should be home." He grabbed her by the wrist. "Now, come on."

"No, no, please, Michael, please." The blonde twisted her arm, trying to break out of his grasp.

"Mommy?"

Quinn looked to the dark haired girl standing in the kitchen doorway. Her blue eyes were wide and she looked between her parents, an expression of fear on her face.

"Go to your room," Michael told the child.

She didn't move. "Mommy, what's wrong?"

"Maybelle, please," Quinn told her softly. "Go to your room. I'll come get you when it's time to eat dinner. Play with your dolls."

The girl looked at both parents before running down the hall to her bedroom. Michael yanked Quinn toward the hallway once they heard the door close. Quinn tried to break free again, but she didn't want to be too loud. She didn't want their daughter to hear.

Michael shoved Quinn into their bedroom and closed the door. He locked it as Quinn put distance between them. She pressed herself up against the wall.

"Please, Michael, I sped home to try and make it in time," she whispered, trying to reason. "I was going fifty five in a thirty five, please. I tried."

"It's not good enough." He took off his belt and folded it over on itself. "We have rules here."

"Michael... please... don't."

Quinn had backed herself into the corner. Michael grabbed her at the wrist and yanked her forward as his other hand raised the belt high above his head.

* * *

><p>"I can barely walk!" Quinn screamed out as she stumbled into Rachel. The brunette caught her, keeping her from falling and the blonde laughed. She hadn't been drunk in a long time and it was the first party of their sophomore year at college.<p>

"We're almost there," Rachel told her and laughed as well. She half carried Quinn up the stairs to her apartment door. She lived on campus, but was one of the few sophomores to score an apartment this year. She propped Quinn up as she opened the door.

Rachel flicked on the light and pulled Quinn inside. She closed and locked the door before leading her to the last bedroom on the right. She unlocked the door and moved inside.

"My roommate's out, if you wanna sleep in her bed," Rachel told her, but Quinn ignored that and stumbled to Rachel's bed, climbing on.

"That was fun," Quinn slurred. "I can't believe you did those shots. Where was this Berry in high school? I saw her, like, once."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed, smirking. She hadn't really partied in high school. "Trying not to get in trouble with the Berry dads."

"Mmmm, yeah." Quinn nodded then flopped back on Rachel's bed.

"Are you going to be okay?" Rachel asked as she moved toward her bed and sat down next to Quinn.

"Mmmm, yeah." The blonde's eyes slid shut.

Rachel watched her a moment. "Quinn?"

"Hm?"

She paused. "You shouldn't sleep on your back."

Quinn sat up carefully and fell forward slightly. Rachel caught her, holding up. Quinn looked to Rachel, meeting her eyes before she let her eyes close. She leaned in and kissed the brunette softly. Rachel kissed her for only a moment before breaking the kiss.

"Quinn," she said, still surprised. "You're not in your right mind... Here. Lay down here. On your side." She helped Quinn lay down. "Yes. There you go. You'll be all right."

Rachel stumbled out of her bed, mind reeling. What just happened? And why did she feel all tingly and giddy? It must have been the alcohol. She took off Quinn's shoes and then her own, deciding not to think about it anymore tonight. She turned off the light and climbed into bed beside Quinn, making sure to keep her distance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Hey, guys! Thanks for the reviews so far! I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far. :)

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><p>"So don't do it."<p>

"I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice."

* * *

><p>"Hey..."<p>

Quinn looked up from the book she was reading. Her lips formed a smile as Michael sat down beside her on the couch.

"Hi," she said.

"Are the kids asleep?" he asked.

"Yes."

Michael smiled and pulled her gently into him, Quinn wincing slightly as she felt the pain from some not yet healed bruises on her side. Michael kissed her head and held her. "You smell good." He nuzzled his nose into her hair.

"Thanks." Quinn closed her book and set it aside. She ran her hand up and down her husband's arm slowly.

"I talked to my parents." He kissed her cheek. "We'll be staying with them from the twenty third until the fourth. How does that sound?"

"Good." Quinn paused. "And... what about Thanksgiving?"

Michael drew back slightly. "What about it?"

Quinn turned, looking to him. "I asked you about visiting my mom."

"No." He shook his head.

She knew when to press a subject or not. Right now, she still had some time. "Michael... She really wants to see the kids."

"You're cooking here for us," he replied easily. "You cook for Thanksgiving, we visit my parents for Christmas. That's always been the plan."

"I know," Quinn agreed, looking away for a moment before bringing her gaze back up to him. "But could I invite her here then?"

There was a pause on Michael's part before he shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" she asked softly, trying not to appear hurt.

"I just want it to be us, baby." Michael pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. "Me and you and our two beautiful kids. That's what I'm thankful for. That's who I want around me."

"Yeah." Quinn knew her time to make her case was up. If she pushed it anymore, he was likely to get angry fast. "That makes sense. Maybe she could come around for Halloween? Go with me to take the kids out? They'd like that a lot. They haven't seen her since the Fourth of July."

"That might work," Michael responded.

A smile appeared and the blonde looked to her husband. "Really?"

"Sure." He leaned in to kiss her. Quinn kissed him back gently. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I know," she said softly. "I love you too."

"Good." He gave her a squeeze and nuzzled her neck. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I certainly wouldn't survive."

Quinn laughed a little. "I'm sure you would."

"Mmm, no, I really don't think so." He kissed along her neck lightly. She let her eyes close and tilted her head. "It'd end me... break my heart... destroy me..."

She laughed again. "Good thing I'm sticking around."

"Good thing." Michael pulled back a little. "Why don't I get us to our room, huh?"

Quinn smirked at him. "What a perfect plan."

Michael smiled back at her and stood from the couch. He picked her up and Quinn laughed despite the pain in her side as she held onto him. They didn't do fun things like this too often. Michael kissed her as he carried her to the bedroom.

* * *

><p>Rachel felt like she was stalking Quinn. After the party Saturday night, she had been a little on edge. Quinn kissed her and she had no idea if the blonde even remembered it. She had decided to take it upon herself to find out and talk to her, but whenever she found Quinn, she lost her nerve. Hence, the stalking.<p>

But now it was Tuesday and this was starting to get ridiculous. Quinn definitely didn't remember. If she did, wouldn't she want to talk about it? As soon as that thought crossed Rachel's mind, she became convinced Quinn did remember it. She was the queen of avoiding.

Drawing in a breath, Rachel approached Quinn. The blonde was sitting on a bench outside of the library, texting or something on her phone. She stopped in front of the other girl and cleared her throat. Quinn looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Hi, Rachel."

"Hello, Quinn."

There was silence for a moment as the two stared at each other.

"Did you... want something?" Quinn asked.

Rachel turned and sat down on the bench beside the blonde. "I was thinking we could talk."

Lifting both eyebrows now, Quinn gave a shrug. "Talk about what?"

"About what happened Saturday night... in my bed." Rachel pressed her lips together.

"Finally had your cherry popped?" the blonde asked with a smirk.

Rachel frowned. "You know very well that it was only you and I in my bedroom Saturday night."

"So that's a no," Quinn concluded. She drew in a breath. "All right then. What?"

"You kissed me," the brunette said, finally getting it out in the open.

"Excuse you?" Quinn replied, her eyebrows shooting up again.

Rachel felt dumb for a moment. Maybe Quinn really didn't remember. "You—we were drunk," she faltered. "When I brought you to my room. And you kissed me."

The blonde was quiet for a moment, a very faint blush creeping up to her cheeks. "That was... obviously a mistake. I... I fell into you."

"You kissed me," Rachel insisted, trying to keep her voice low as a few people walked by. "That was a definite kiss."

"You kissed me back, lesbo," Quinn said quickly, defensively.

Rachel certainly wasn't expectantly that reaction. "Woah, Quinn, I—"

"Look, Rachel, I don't know what you thought that was, but I fell into you," Quinn told her, still speaking quickly. "I wasn't trying to kiss you."

"But, that's not—"

"You're the one who kissed me," the blonde insisted.

"I didn't." Rachel frowned. She wasn't the one who initiated it. "Well, I did I guess. But only after you kissed me first."

"I didn't kiss you!" Quinn noticed people were staring and lowered her voice. "You better not breathe a word of this to anyone, you creepy little munchkin. Go back to Oz." She stood from the bench and began to walk away.

Rachel stood as well, taking a step after her. "Quinn, wait. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset!" Quinn called back as she glanced over her shoulder. "Leave me alone."

Rachel watched her go, quite certain that was the absolute worst way that could go. Actually, it could have been worse if Quinn slapped her. She hadn't meant to scare her off like that. But it seemed quite clear that Quinn was denial and just maybe that kiss had actually meant something.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hey, guys! Thank you so much for the great reviews! Sorry it took me so long to get this out. I was in Chicago for a week, came home and was sick for a week, then had to leave to go to my brother's wedding. It's been a whirlwind! Anyway, enjoy the next chappie!

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><p>"Not when it comes to this. I've been here before."<p>

"This is different! This is so different."

"I'm learning from past mistakes."

"By making more?"

* * *

><p>"What are you doing out of bed?"<p>

Quinn jumped a mile, the water in her glass almost sloshing over the side. She turned toward the kitchen doorway and smiled at her husband.

"Hey," she spoke softly. "You scared me. I was just getting some water." She held up the glass a little more to show him. "Did I wake you?"

"No," he answered. "Your phone did."

"It did?" She felt a sudden panic, not knowing if someone texted or called and who it was. "Did someone call?"

"Text," he replied.

"Oh." She could tell by his tone that this wasn't good.

"From Steven," he added.

"Oh." Quinn tried not to show fear. "What did it say?"

"You're meeting him tomorrow." Michael moved closer to her slowly.

"Yes," Quinn agreed with a nod. "Joey and Dave get along really well with Maybelle and Alex. They're going with us to the Halloween activities at the library."

"I told you I didn't want you hanging out with _him_," Michael reminded her, keeping his tone calm for now. "I don't like him."

"You said hanging out with him alone," Quinn spoke softly. "We don't do play dates anymore. There's going to be lots of parents and kids at the library. I thought it was okay."

"If you thought it was okay, then why did you hide it?" Michael asked her.

"I... didn't," Quinn replied, trying to calculate her words. "I told you we were going there tomorrow."

"And you neglected to tell me you were meeting him there," Michael added.

"It's not a big deal." She needed to play this off as not a big deal, which it wasn't, but she was worried her fear might make him think it was something she was hiding. "I mean, we were both going. We decided to meet when we both got there."

"You lied to me." Michael moved even closer.

"I didn't," she insisted.

"You left that detail out."

"There's going to be lots of people there," Quinn went on. He was invading her space and she was scared. "I would have seen him there anyway."

"I don't want your excuses!"

Michael slapped her hard across the face and Quinn stumbled back, spilling water from her glass on the floor.

"Yeah, make a fucking mess," he hissed angrily.

"It's just water."

Quinn turned to get paper towels when Michael smacked her glass from her hand. It fell to the floor, breaking. The blonde kept her head ducked, not wanting to look her husband in the eyes.

"You'll clean it up," Michael told her.

"Of course," she replied quickly.

"With your bare hands," he added. "Now."

He shoved her toward the broken glass and Quinn winced as she stepped on a piece of glass.

"Ow."

"Get down," he pushed hard on her back, knocking her to the floor. Quinn was aware her foot was bleeding and her pajamas where wet from the water. She couldn't see the glass too well in the darkened kitchen. She carefully began to pick up the bigger pieces.

"Faster!"

He kicked her, knocking her over and causing the glass in her hands to fall back to the floor.

"Michael, please," she begged, not wanting to get any more cuts.

"Get it done," he kept his voice low, stern, even. "Now. You're a fucking mess. I should make you sleep on it."

Quinn looked up at him. "No..."

"Clean it the fuck up," he told her. "I don't want you in my room. You sleep out here."

"Michael—"

"Are you going to talk back to me?" he cut her off and leaned down, getting in her face.

Quinn glanced away. "No..."

He hit her again and she cried out, tears springing to her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly.

"Fuck, I'll show you sorry."

"Michael, please."

She was crying now and he grabbed her by her hair, dragging her over the glass. Quinn cried out as Michael yanked her to her feet by her hair.

"Let's go." He growled in her ear as he tossed her into the living room. He shoved her onto the couch and straddled her, his arm raising high above his head before he brought it down, over and over, making contact with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, Mom," Quinn said softly into the phone once her mother picked up. Her left eye was bruised and bloodshot. Her lip was swollen in two places. She had a cut on her right cheek.

"Hey, Quinn," Judy responded brightly. "Just packing up to start the drive."

"That's what I'm calling about," Quinn told her and closed her eyes, trying not to sigh.

"What now?" Her mother's voice was tired. She was used to this.

"It's not good," Quinn said. "Um... It would be better if you didn't come. I'm a little sick, the kids are sick a little. Um. We won't even be out that long. So... you know, we can reschedule."

"Quinn." Judy paused. "It's always one excuse or another."

"I know," Quinn replied softly. "I'm sorry." She hung up the phone.

* * *

><p>Rachel trudged up the stairs to her apartment. She froze when she saw Quinn standing outside the door. That was a surprise. She looked away and moved toward the door, unlocking it.<p>

"I haven't seen you in a while," Rachel said.

"Been busy," Quinn replied.

"So..." Rachel glanced at her. "What's up?"

"Nothing." She shrugged.

Rachel opened the door. "Want to come in?"

"Sure."

Quinn followed Rachel inside and looked around. The apartment seemed empty. Rachel turned around to ask if Quinn wanted something to drink when the blonde closed the space between them and kissed her.

For a moment, Rachel didn't react. But then her eyes closed and she kissed Quinn back. The blonde reached up to cup Rachel's face as she pressed her body into the other girl's. She moved them back until she had the brunette pinned against the wall.

This time, Quinn wasn't drunk, as far as Rachel knew. It wasn't just a fluke. She took her time kissing Quinn. It would be a lie if she said she had never thought about it before. Especially since that drunken night. She broke the kiss and pulled back slightly.

"We can go to my room... if you want."

"Yes," Quinn answered, a little breathlessly, and led the way to Rachel's room.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: *****WARNING**** Triggers for rape, non graphic, read with caution. If you wish to skip that part, read only the first and third section.

********BREAK********

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Why is that?"

"Because you haven't been in my shoes. You haven't been here."

"This is completely different than high school."

"Exactly. This is real life. I have to make the best decision for everyone involved."

"And what about me?"

"You're not a part of this."

*******BREAK*********

She was watching the big snowflakes fall to the soft snow already on the ground. Everything was still and quiet. It had been a good few weeks. Lots of indoor time, hot chocolate, and snuggles with her children.

Thanksgiving would coming soon. Quinn had planned out what she would be cooking for the holiday. She was looking forward to it, even if they weren't traveling to visit either extended family. It would just be their small unit spending the day together.

Turning from the window, she moved through the kitchen. It was late, time for bed, and Michael was in the bedroom waiting for her. She turned off all the lights and headed into the room.

"Hey," he said, looking up from the bed. He was wearing his pajama bottoms and nothing more.

"Hi." Quinn smiled at him and flicked off the flight. She climbed into bed beside him, but tensed as he moved closer to her and slid his hand over her stomach.

"What took you so long?" he asked as he began to kiss her neck.

"It's snowing outside," she told him and tilted her head, frowning.

"How nice," he commented as his hand slid under her pajama top.

"Michael," she said softly and placed her hand on his. "I don't..."

He pulled away and stared at her in the darkness. "Don't what?"

"I don't... feel like it," she admitted quietly. "I'm tired."

"I'm tired every damn day after going to work, you don't see me bitching about it," Michael retorted.

"We can do it tomorrow," she offered sincerely. "Please."

"Maybe I won't be in the mood tomorrow," he responded and slipped his hand around her backside, pulling her in close. "But I'm in the mood now."

She pushed against him. "Michael, please. Don't do this."

Michael pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her. Quinn struggled until he slapped her hard across the face.

"It'll hurt less if you don't fight me," he told her sternly through gritted teeth.

"Michael, please." She felt tears as he tugged at her pajama bottoms.

"What?" he asked and kissed her hard. "You want it, baby?"

"No." Quinn shook her head and pushed against his chest.

Michael grabbed her at her wrists and held her down. He leaned down over her, getting in her face. He smelled like mint toothpaste and soap.

"Tell me you want it, Quinn," he commanded. "I fucking know you do. Say it!" She was crying now and he squeezed her wrists harder. "Say it!" He smacked her in the face.

"I want it," she said quickly, still crying and praying that would keep him from hitting her again.

"I knew it." Michael leaned down to kiss her collarbone and bit her, making Quinn cry out in pain. He shifted on her and released one of her wrists so he could yank her pajama bottoms off.

*********BREAK*********

Rachel sat up in bed, pulling the thin sheet tighter around herself as she watched Quinn make her way across the room, wrapped in and half dragging the comforter. Rachel chewed her bottom lip, her cheeks were flushed and her hair was a mess, but she had never felt that amazing before.

"I know I wasn't the best," she said, swallowing her pride to admit that.

Quinn gave a shrug. "I didn't expect you to be." She searched for her panties. She didn't know where they went.

"You were... really... really good." Rachel had never come like that before. Especially not twice during a short amount of time.

"Thanks," Quinn replied, but that wasn't her concern. Her concern were her panties.

Rachel bit her lip again. She was holding Quinn's panties in her hand. She shoved them down between her mattress and the wall. She didn't want Quinn to rush out of there.

The brunette drew in a breath and slid off the bed, leaving the sheet behind. She approached Quinn and slipped her arms around her from behind. It was a little awkward with the comforter between them and the slight height difference.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asked.

"Face me," Rachel spoke softly.

Swallowing, Quinn turned slowly toward Rachel, letting the comforter fall. She locked her eyes on the dark ones. Rachel leaned up and kissed her softly.

"I know exactly what to do now," Rachel told her. She knew what to try, what moves to make now that the blonde had showed her. "I want to take care of you." She cupped Quinn's breast and ran her thumb over the nipple. "Quinn, please. Don't go."

Rachel leaned up and kissed her neck. Her thumb continued to brush over Quinn's nipple as she slipped a hand down between the blonde's thighs. Quinn's lips parted as she breathed out and her eyes closed. She nodded slightly and walked Rachel back toward the bed.

"I won't go yet," she whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews! Glad you're still interested in the story. :) Hope you enjoy the chapter!

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><p>"You know what? Fine. Leave me. I don't care, Quinn. I don't."<p>

"You're the one who's going to be leaving."

"Switching schools and it's not until the end of the term."

"Doesn't matter. I'm stuck here now."

"You're not stuck. You can come with me."

"My dreams aren't your dreams, Rachel. This is my life now. Without you."

"Fine."

* * *

><p>Quinn was struggling. She needed to get back home soon. She had to start dinner, but right now, it seemed like she was going to cut it close. They were in the grocery store and Alex wouldn't stop crying while Maybelle wasn't listening. Quinn would have given up, but she needed some of these groceries for tonight.<p>

She steered the cart toward the check out counter, trying to ignore the stares from other shoppers as Alex's crying grew louder. He needed a nap when he got home. Quinn quickly began putting the items from the cart onto the checkout counter. She looked around for her daughter.

"Maybelle, get over here," she commanded, spotting her walking off toward a cereal display.

The girl ran back over to the cart and poked her brother, who was sitting in the seat at the front of the cart. Alex swatted at her.

"Maybelle, please," Quinn added as she finished putting all the groceries on the counter.

"Quinn?"

Straightening, Quinn froze. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it in a long time, though. She looked around the store and her eyes landed on Rachel. Her brown hair was still long, but she didn't have bangs anymore. She was wearing a winter coat and a smile.

"Hey," Rachel said as she approached.

"What are you doing here?" Quinn asked, still not believing Rachel was in the same store as her.

"Home for the holidays," Rachel answered. "Until the new year. Then back to New York."

"Oh." Quinn took note of the cashier scanning her items. Of Maybelle poking her brother once more, but most of her focus remained on Rachel. She hadn't thought she'd see her again.

"How are you?" Rachel moved closer to Quinn and waited for a response she didn't receive. She looked at the children. "Are these your kids?" Of course they were, but she wanted to make some sort of conversation.

"I'm Maybelle," the brunette child announced, looking up at Rachel with big blue eyes.

"Hi, I'm Rachel," she responded.

"You're pretty," Maybelle told her.

Rachel smiled widely. "Thank you. Is this your brother?" She indicated the boy with blonde hair.

"Alex," Maybelle mumbled. "He won't shut up."

"Maybelle, don't say that," Quinn interjected, frowning.

"But he won't shut up," Maybelle replied.

Rachel laughed a little, but Quinn only frowned deeper. She quickly paid for the groceries and dropped the paper bags into the cart.

"I've got to go," she told Rachel and tugged the cart along.

"Maybe we can catch up sometime," Rachel suggested, not wanting Quinn to go yet, but she understood the need with the crying baby and all. "Maybe go out for dinner?"

"I... really can't." Quinn quickly grabbed Maybelle at the wrist. She pulled her daughter along while she pushed the shopping cart with her free hand and headed out of the store.

Rachel watched her go. She figured that trying to get in touch again with Quinn was going to be difficult. After all, they hadn't communicated in years. Although, things had ended sour between them, she hoped the past could be forgotten.

* * *

><p>Quinn had finished washing the dishes, cleaning up the kitchen, and putting the kids to bed. She was sitting at the table and making a list of items she needed to buy at the grocery store for Thanksgiving dinner. It was next Thursday and she planned to buy everything she would need this weekend.<p>

She pushed back her chair and moved from the kitchen to the living room. Michael was sitting on the couch, watching a repeat of some comedy show Quinn didn't really like.

"Hey, Michael," she said softly as she stood beside the couch. "Do you want green beans or corn for Thanksgiving?"

"What do you want?" Michael asked, glancing over at her.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Do that green bean casserole stuff," he told her.

"Okay." Quinn nodded and watched him watching the television for a moment. "I, um, I'll be spending money then, this weekend, for the groceries."

"I'll want the receipts," Michael replied, eyes still on the TV.

"All right." She stepped away from the couch and moved back toward the kitchen.

"Where's today's receipt?"

That stopped her. She turned back toward the couch, but didn't approach. "I... I forgot it at the store." She had left in a hurry after seeing Rachel. "I must have dropped it on the way out."

"The price better not exceed fifty dollars," Michael warned.

"It didn't," she assured him. "I didn't get everything on my list. Alex was acting up, I only spent thirty."

Michael turned a little to look back at her. "Remember the receipt next time."

"I will."

The doorbell rang and Quinn looked over at the door. Michael stood from the couch and turned off the television. He looked to the door as well, then to Quinn.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"I don't know," Quinn answered, but she had the worst feeling about this.

Michael went for the door and opened it. Rachel was standing on the porch, an unopened bottle of wine in her hands. Quinn felt like a twenty pound weight had dropped on her stomach. She didn't make a movement, nor a sound.

"Hi, Michael," Rachel said brightly. "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Rachel Berry. We went to college together. I was friends with Quinn."

Michael turned and looked back at his wife. She swallowed hard and approached the door slowly.

"Hey, Rachel," she said, trying to keep any fear out of her voice.

Rachel smiled at Quinn, then turned her attention back to Michael, since he was the one still partially blocking the doorway and preventing her from entering. "I live in New York City now, but I'm home for the holidays. I ran into Quinn at the store today and thought I'd stop by."

"You did?" Michael glanced at Quinn, then looked to Rachel. "Now's not really a good time."

"Oh." Rachel's face fell slightly. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. I thought it would be okay. I brought wine."

"It's sort of late," Michael told her. "And I go to sleep early."

"Of course." Rachel offered a smile and shook her head. "Lima is not like New York. Here. Take the wine." She handed it off to Michael. "Maybe we can all go out for dinner once Thanksgiving is through. Maybe catch up a bit?"

"Yes, that might be fun," Michael replied.

Rachel nodded. "All right, well..." She glanced at the blonde. "Quinn, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Quinn responded softly.

"Bye, Michael," the brunette said.

"Goodbye, Rachel."

Michael closed the door and locked it. He stared at Quinn as he waited for Rachel to walk away from the house. Quinn began to take slow steps backward.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked quietly.

"I didn't invite her here," Quinn spoke quickly. "I didn't even tell her where we lived. I don't know how she—"

"Shut up," he cut her off and moved toward her.

"Michael, please, I swear to you, I didn't—"

"Shut up."

Quinn pressed her lips together. She was backed up against the wall. She considered running to the bedroom, but she had no where to hide. He had keys for every door in the house. She couldn't lock him out.

Michael threw the bottle of wine at her. Quinn ducked and it shattered above her head. She took off for the hallway as the glass and wine rained down on her. Michael caught her before reaching the bedroom and shoved her in the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shut up!" he commanded as Quinn cowered.

"Please, Michael, I'm sorry..." She moved around the bed, stumbling slightly as she ran into the corner of it.

"Shut the fuck up," he said through gritted teeth.

Michael smacked her across the face, knocking her to the floor. Quinn lifted her arm to try and protect her face from any more blows.

"You worthless piece of shit." His fingers wrapped around her forearm and he pulled her arm back so her could hit her again.

"Michael, no, please," she begged.

"Shut the fuck up!" He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her up more. "I don't want to hear anything from you, do you understand?" Quinn nodded and he slapped her again, releasing her hair and knocking her back to the floor.

"We don't have guests here," Michael reminded her. "Not without approval. You know that. But you made your choice, didn't you? And now you have to pay for that."

* * *

><p>"Hey, you dropped this."<p>

"Oh, God, thanks." She hadn't realized she missed the opening in her purse when she went to slip her wallet inside. "You're a life saver."

"I'm not, but thanks." He offered his hand. "I'm Michael."

"Quinn." She accepted his hand and shook it.

He didn't let go yet. "Sophomore?"

"Freshman," she corrected, wincing slightly to admit that.

"Don't sound embarrassed." He laughed a little and released her hand. "Almost sophomore."

"Yes, almost," she agreed with a smile. Quinn eyed him up and lifted an eyebrow. "Junior?"

"Good guess," he told her.

"Thanks." Quinn frowned slightly. She had been in a hurry. "I, uh, got to get to class. Can't be late... again."

"Here." Michael opened his notebook and held out a pen for her. "Write down your number. Maybe we can grab a coffee sometime."

Quinn smiled again and quickly scribbled her cell number down. "That sounds nice."

"Good." He took his pen back and closed his notebook. "I'll see you around."

"You will," she replied and headed off to class, grinning. Michael was really handsome and charming. And he was a junior? Quinn decided it was definitely a good day.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Hey, guys! Here's the next chappie! Thanks for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it. You keep me going! Enjoy this chapter! The next one's gonna be intense!

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><p>Rachel was right back at the house the next day. She felt terrible for imposing on Quinn and Michael the previous night. She shouldn't have shown up unannounced. She knew that was rude, but for some reason, she thought it would have been okay. Again, though, she was showing up unannounced, but she had a feeling Michael worked during the day so she'd only be bothering Quinn. Besides, she mostly wanted to apologize and set up a day to go out.<p>

She stood at the door for about ten minutes. She knocked and waited. She rang the doorbell and waited. She called the number for Quinn's cell phone and received no answer, but the voicemail message assured her that it was still, in fact, Quinn's phone number. She knocked again and then stood on the porch. She didn't want to leave yet, but if Quinn wasn't home, she couldn't wait around all day. However, there was something, some feeling, preventing her from leaving.

But, really, she couldn't wait around. Who knew what time Quinn would be home? Rachel stepped down the porch steps slowly and began to head back to her car.

"Hello!"

The brunette turned to see an older woman, maybe about sixty or so, standing on the porch of the house in the neighboring yard. She stepped down from her porch and approached Rachel.

"Hi," Rachel said and offered a smile. "Do you happen to know if Quinn is in or not?

"I'm not sure," the woman replied. "Her husband took the kids this morning."

"He doesn't usually do that?" Rachel asked, sensing that it wasn't the norm.

"No," she answered. "Quinn stays home with them. Every month or so, he'll take the kids with him. He must drop them off at a sitter."

"Oh." Rachel thought for a quick moment. "I had plans with Quinn today. Holiday stuff we were doing. Shopping. Prepping for Thanksgiving." That was a lie, but she wanted to see if she could get some more information from this neighbor.

"Well... hm... I didn't happen to see her leave..." She looked toward the garage. "If her car is in the garage, she should be home..."

The woman led the way towards the garage and Rachel followed, surprised by her boldness. She peeked into the window first and Rachel followed suit. There was a dark blue minivan parked inside.

"Yep." The woman stepped away from the window. "That's hers. Hm... She didn't answer the door?"

"No." Rachel shook her head. "Not her phone either. You don't think something's wrong, do you?"

"Here." She gave a wave of her hand, indicating for Rachel to follow her. "Come with me. I'm Marie, by the way."

"Rachel." The brunette smiled.

"How do you know Quinn?" Marie asked as she led the way to her back door.

"We went to high school and college together," Rachel told her.

"Oh, how nice." Marie led her into the kitchen. "I hardly see any friends visit. It's mostly just her, Michael, and the kids." She moved toward one of the kitchen drawers and began rummaging through it. "I have a key to the front door. Don't let Michael know, he has some paranoia about break ins or something of the sort, according to Quinn. But before she got the minivan, she had a habit of locking herself out of the house. She had a key made, asked if I would hold onto it." She pulled out a key. "Here. Make sure she's okay."

Rachel stared for a moment. This seemed... weird. She took the key. "Thanks."

Marie let her back out and Rachel headed for Quinn's front door. She slid the key into the lock and unlocked the door before stepping inside. "Quinn?" she called out.

Not getting a response, Rachel closed the door and moved further into the house. She looked around and that was when she noticed the stain on the wall and glass on the floor. She frowned, quickly realizing it was the glass of the wine bottle she brought yesterday.

"Quinn!" she called out again, a little more desperately.

She moved through the house quickly, glancing into the children's rooms, then stepped into the master bedroom. She was about to leave when she saw the feet poking out from the other side of the bed. A feeling of panic washed over her.

Rachel hurried to the other side of the bed. Quinn was on the floor, dressed in the same clothes as last night. For a moment, Rachel thought she was dead, but then she saw her chest move as she breathed in. She knelt down beside her and quickly pulled out her cell phone.

"Don't worry, Quinn. I'm calling nine one one." Rachel placed a gentle handle on Quinn's shoulder, which caused her to stir.

"No..."

"Quinn." Rachel watched as Quinn turned slightly. She gasped at seeing her friend's right eye completely swollen shut, her face bloodied.

"Don't," Quinn mumbled, opening her left eye to look at Rachel.

"Honey, I'm getting you help," the brunette responded.

"No."

The blonde reached for Rachel, for her phone, trying to grab at it. Her shirt rode up and Rachel's eyes fell to the skin there. She saw reddish purple bruises, fresh. But then there were other bruises, older bruises. Greenish blue ones, yellow brown ones.

"Quinn," she said a little more sternly. She had stopped dialing after the nine and now hung up the phone. She tugged Quinn's shirt up, seeing more bruises and some red welts. "Please... please tell me someone broke in..." It was an odd thing to wish for and the blonde didn't answer.

"How long have you been on the floor?" Rachel asked her softly.

"I can't get up," Quinn said.

"Does anything feel broken?" The brunette's eyebrows drew together.

"No." Quinn started to shake her head, but stopped because it hurt. "I don't know."

"Sit up." she said. "Carefully."

Rachel helped Quinn to a sitting position. The blonde winced in pain and opened her left eye again. Her right eye was too swollen. It wouldn't open. There was blood caked to her cheek and around her nose. Blood was on her shirt and the floor too.

"What the hell happened?" Rachel asked her.

Quinn's face was throbbing, her head was throbbing. Her side hurt, her back hurt, everything hurt. And here was Rachel.

"How did you get in?" Quinn ignored her question.

"Your neighbor gave me the key," Rachel answered. "Guess she was worried about you too. This happens every month?"

That confused her. "What?"

"How often does he do this?" Rachel clarified.

_Oh_. She spoke softly. "Whenever I deserve it."

The hair on Rachel's arms stood up. Who was this? Where was the Quinn Fabray she knew? This wasn't her. This was a sad, defeated woman. How did Quinn end up here?

"You... we... should clean you up," Rachel announced.

She very carefully helped Quinn to stand. She wrapped her arm around her backside and led her to the bathroom. Quinn kept her focus on the floor. Rachel wasn't supposed to know about this. She wasn't supposed to see this.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you, catch up," Rachel explained. "You know?"

"Are you caught up now?" Quinn asked bitterly.

The blonde sat down on the edge of the tub as Rachel grabbed a few paper towels and dampened them with water, ignoring Quinn's harsh tone. She moved toward the other girl and began to gently clean away the blood from her face.

Rachel was quiet for a long moment. She wanted answers, but Quinn kept shutting her out. She drew in a breath and avoided making eye contact. "How did this happen?"

"You showed up."

Her stomach turned, her face paled. Now, she met Quinn's eye. "He did this because of me?"

"Why did you show up here last night, Rachel?" Quinn glared with her good eye.

"I didn't know he would do this to you," Rachel said.

Quinn knew Rachel was right. She didn't know, but it still made Quinn angry. If Rachel hadn't shown up, things would have been all right. For once, Michael's actions weren't her fault. They were Rachel's.

"You have to leave him," Rachel told her, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"I can't," Quinn replied.

"Of course you can," Rachel insisted.

"No." Quinn's tone was harsher. "I _can__'__t_."

"Well, you can't stay with him," Rachel replied and wiped at the blood above Quinn's lip.

"Yes, I can," she insisted.

"Quinn." Rachel made eye contact.

"He said he'd kill me if I tried to leave," Quinn explained, her eyes not straying from Rachel's. It was like she could win with Rachel. She couldn't win with Michael, so she would try to win now.

"He'll kill you this way," Rachel said.

Quinn didn't respond and gave in, looking away. Rachel finished cleaning off the blood and released her face. She stepped back and tossed the paper towels into the trash.

"All done," she told her softly.

"Thanks," Quinn mumbled.

"Maybe we should put some ice on your eye?" the brunette suggested.

"Yeah." Quinn shrugged.

"Get you out of that bloodied shirt," she added.

Quinn kept quiet again. She moved out of the bathroom and winced in pain as she tugged her shirt off. Rachel stepped into the bedroom and covered her mouth with her hand as she saw the bruises on Quinn's body.

"Quinn..." There were tears in Rachel's eyes now. "No one should touch you like this." She approached her quickly, turning her, needing to see her face. She lightly brushed some of the blonde hair back. "You don't deserve this."

"Shut up, Rachel."

The brunette pressed her lips together and swiped her tears away as she watched Quinn put on an oversized shirt before tugging off the jeans she had been wearing and tossing them aside. She walked out of the bedroom then and Rachel followed after her.

Quinn was grabbing a bag of frozen broccoli from the freezer when Rachel stepped into the kitchen.

"Why don't you sit?" Rachel asked. "I'll make you something to eat."

Without a word, Quinn sat at the table and pressed the broccoli bag to her swollen eye. She stared at the table. Rachel glanced at her friend. Sitting, Quinn's t-shirt didn't cover as much skin and there were more bruises exposed on her thighs.

Swallowing hard, Rachel tried to ignore that for now. She began looking through the cupboards. "I could make you a sandwich... Or pasta. Or there's some tuna in here."

"That's not mine," Quinn muttered.

"What?" Rachel frowned, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"That's Michael's stuff," Quinn told her. "I just have soup. Next cabinet over."

Rachel opened the other cabinet and saw dishes and cups, but the bottom shelf had cans of soup on it. "You just have soup," she repeated slowly. "You can't eat his food?

"No."

The brunette stared. "He controls what you eat."

Quinn turned slightly to look at her. "Can we not do this?"

Rachel shook her head. "Quinn, you're in a prison."

She was pissed now. She just wanted Rachel to leave her alone. "And what would you like me to do about it? Call the police? And then he makes bail and he finds me and he kills me. Or I take the kids and run? He'll find me, he'll have me charged with kidnapping or child endangerment or something."

"No one would let him do that to you with you looking like you do because of him," Rachel said quickly.

"You don't know him, Rachel," Quinn replied. "You don't know what he's capable of. The... The first and only time I threatened to leave him... He beat me until I blacked out. I woke up in the back yard. There was three feet of snow on the ground. I was so cold, I could barely move. When he finally let me back inside, he held a knife to my throat and said if I ever pulled anything like that again, if I ever left, he'd put me underground."

Rachel was about ready to kill this douchebag herself. She tried to keep her emotions at bay, however, to not upset Quinn anymore. She focused on soup. She focused on heating the soup up. She focused on feeding her friend.

"There are solutions to every problem, you know," she said softly.

Quinn stared back down at the table. "Other than killing him, I don't see it."

"Self defense," Rachel said. "If you thought he was about to kill you, and you were defending yourself, that would hold up in court."

"Rachel." Quinn looked over to her friend, but only saw her backside as she cooked. "No. He's... he's the father of my children."

The brunette turned slightly. "Does he hit them too?"

"Of course not," Quinn answered quickly. It was true, though. He never did.

"Do you think he will once he's killed you?"

"I can't talk about this anymore." Quinn looked away.

"Here's your soup." Rachel set the bowl and a spoon down in front of Quinn and then sat opposite her. She would stay here until Quinn was going to talk about it. They were going to figure this out. Now that Rachel knew what was happening, there was no way she would let this continue.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: Hey, guys! Since you had been such awesome readers and reviewers, I decided to work hard to get this chapter out! Thanks for reading! Enjoy this chappie! :)

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><p>"You should go," Quinn said, nearly finished with her soup now.<p>

Rachel had not said anything more. After she placed the soup down and sat, she stood and got them each a glass of water before sitting back down again. Quinn felt awkward, like Rachel was watching her eat, but she was hungry, so she tried not to care.

Once she had finished she pushed the bowl away and pressed the frozen bag of broccoli back to her swollen eye.

"No," Rachel told her. "I have... what? Five hours until he's home? I'm not leaving until we talk about this." She took a sip of her water.

"Rachel... there's nothing to talk about," Quinn replied. "Why can't you just leave this alone?"

The brunette set her glass down firmly on the table. "Because he's going to kill you and that'll be on my hands."

Quinn shook her head. "No..."

"Yes," Rachel insisted. "He will. Eventually. We need to go to the police. Where did he put the kids?"

"We're not going to the police," Quinn responded with another shake of her head. "I told you. If they arrest him, _if_, he'll make bail. Then he's going to kill me."

"He's not going to kill you," Rachel assured her, making sure to meet Quinn's eye. "I won't let him."

"How are you going to protect me?" The blonde asked with a raise of her eyebrow. "Babysit me? And what happens when you have to go back to New York?"

"I won't leave until he's in jail," Rachel told her.

"And when we gets out, his first mission is to find me and put me in the ground," Quinn stated, glaring slightly with her good eye. "Do you think I haven't thought about this? I have. I've thought of everything. Nothing will work."

"Unless he's dead," Rachel said.

Quinn frowned. "Rachel..."

"I'll do it," she added quickly.

"Stop it."

The blonde froze as she heard the sound of the garage door opening. She dropped the broccoli bag to the table and stood up.

"No." She sucked in a breath. "He can't be home yet. Why would he be home?"

Rachel stood up just as fast, a feeling of panic washing over her. "I'll leave. I'm sorry." She didn't want Quinn to get beat for her being there again.

"Go out the back," Quinn told her quickly. "Come on."

Quinn waved her hand and Rachel followed her into the hallway. She was going to lead her to the backdoor in the dining room but the garage door was already shutting. There wasn't enough time to get her outside.

"No, no." She stopped and pointed down the hall. "Go to, uh, Maybelle's room, to her closet. Go in there."

Rachel took off down the hallway, ducking into the child's room just as the door to the garage opened. She would wait in that closet for hours if it meant protecting Quinn. The blonde turned to see Michael. He was carrying flowers. Quinn could hear the closet doors shutting and she hoped that he couldn't.

"Hey." Michael smiled at her. "Good. You're up."

"Yeah," Quinn responded softly.

"Here." He approached and handed off the flowers before kissing her non bruised temple. He lightly touched the swollen areas of her eye with his thumb before stepping back. "My beautiful wife needs some beautiful flowers."

"Thanks." Quinn forced a smile.

Michael moved into the kitchen and Quinn followed after him. "Just finished lunch?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah." She nodded and gently set the flowers on the table. "The kids are with your mom?"

"Yep," Michael answered. "You been putting ice on your eye?"

"Broccoli."

Quinn indicated the bag on the table. Michael smiled and looked back at the broccoli. His smile vanished quickly however and Quinn became alarmed. She took a step away from him.

"Who's here?" he asked, frowning at her.

"What?" Quinn shook her head. "No one."

"Why are there two glasses of water on the table?" Michael indicated the glasses and Quinn could feel her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

"One... one's for you."

"Don't fucking lie to me." He approached her and slapped her hard in the face. Quinn let out a yelp. She couldn't take another beating.

"Rachel," she said, wincing. "Rachel's here."

Michael held tight to her arm, keeping her in front of him. "What the fuck is she doing here? I told you no visitors."

"She just showed up again." Quinn began to cry.

"And you let her see you like this? What the fuck is wrong with you?" He twisted her arm and she let out another cry.

"_Stop __it._"

Michael stepped back further into the kitchen, pulling Quinn with him. Rachel was standing in the doorway, her attention focused on Michael, eyebrows drawn.

"So you know now," Michael said to Rachel, standing strong. He wasn't afraid of a small woman like her. "She's my wife. I can treat her any way I like."

"Let her go," Rachel demanded.

"Get the fuck out of my house," Michael told her.

"Not until you let me leave with her," Rachel replied. She was serious. She wasn't leaving without Quinn.

"I'll call the police," Michael threatened.

"No, you won't." Of course he wouldn't. Then he would have to explain Quinn's injuries. Rachel planted her hands on her hips. "I can call them for you."

Michael released Quinn, trying not to let a smirk form. She glanced at him, unsure, then took a step toward Rachel. He reached out and quickly grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back into him, wanting to prove his control. Quinn cried out in pain and Rachel stepped forward.

"Stop it," she said again.

"Get out of here," Michael commanded.

"No." Rachel couldn't back down. She had to stay for Quinn. "I'm... I'm gonna call the cops."

He smiled. "It doesn't matter. Go ahead. Quinn won't say a word against me, will you?" He looked down at his wife, who didn't respond.

"They'll still take you in," Rachel told him.

"And I'd get out by tomorrow at the latest." He punched Quinn hard in the side and she grunted in pain. She was going to pass out. He kept hitting her in places that were still tender from the previous night. "I'm going to keep hurting her until you're out of my fucking house."

"No, you won't."

Rachel approached him quickly and scratched at his face. Maybe she was going for his eyes. She didn't know what she was doing really, but she needed him to let go of Quinn. Michael cried out and released Quinn so he could grab Rachel at the wrists, stopping her from inflicting more pain.

"Stop," Quinn said. "Please. Don't hurt her."

She stepped in, trying to get between Rachel and Michael. "Get your stupid fucking friend out of here!" Michael yelled.

"Not leaving without her," Rachel yelled back, trying to break free from Michael. He was surprisingly strong and hurting her wrists. Quinn tugged on his arm, trying to get him to let go of Rachel.

"Michael, stop, please," Quinn begged.

Rachel needed to try some other way to get him to let go of her, so she kicked him as hard as she could in the shin.

"Ow, fuck!" He released her.

"Come on!"

Rachel grabbed Quinn's arm and pulled her toward the hallway. They made it to the living room before Michael caught up and got hold of Quinn's other arm, yanking her backward. She was pulled out of Rachel's grasp back toward Michael. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held a knife to her throat.

The brunette froze at seeing the knife. She looked to Quinn, then to Michael. She didn't know what to do, but she really couldn't leave now.

"Go on," Michael said firmly. "Get out."

"No," Rachel replied softly.

"I will kill her right in front of you." Michael pressed the knife into Quinn's neck.

"Rachel, please..." Quinn looked to the brunette. "Please go."

"All right." Rachel nodded. "Don't kill her. I'll go. Here." She fished in her pocket and pulled out a key. "Here's your house key."

"Set it on the coffee table." Michael gave a nod of his head, indicating the table. He moved back, more into the living room and away from the door. "Right there. Set it down."

Rachel stepped to the coffee table slowly and put the key down. She was closer to Michael and Quinn now. She swallowed hard and then charged at Michael again. She stomped her foot into his leg, right at the side of his knee.

"Fuck!"

Michael's leg gave out slightly and he lowered his arm. Rachel yanked Quinn from him again. She pushed her out of the way and charged at Michael as he straightened up. Rachel shoved him hard and then backed off as he stumbled before swiping at her with the knife.

"Big mistake," he told her.

She stepped closer and kicked him again, though kept as much distance as she could. Rachel knew her legs were stronger than her arms. She didn't have very great upper body strength. Besides, women were known for having more lower body strength.

Michael stumbled backwards and Rachel followed him after, shoving him until he was on the floor as she avoided getting slashed by the knife. She turned to get Quinn out of there when Michael tripped her with his foot and she fell to the floor.

"Stupid bitch," Michael mumbled and turned Rachel onto her back. He climbed on top of her, pinning her down. "Biggest fucking mistake of your goddamn life."

He raised the knife and Rachel screamed. A vase connected with Michael's head. Quinn was standing over them both, her face pale except for her bruises. The knife fell from Michael's hand and he slid off of Rachel a little, stunned. He shook his head and sat up, still on top of Rachel. He shoved Quinn hard and watched her stumble backwards and fall to the floor.

"I'll deal with you later, bitch."

Michael turned back to Rachel, still beneath him, and went to reach for the knife when he realized it wasn't where he dropped it. He looked down at Rachel and his hands went for her throat as she thrust the knife up into him. Quinn screamed from where she had fallen to the floor.

For a moment he didn't move, but then he fell off of Rachel and she scrambled over to where Quinn was, blood on her hands and her dress. She stared at Michael, eyes wide. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed nine one one.

Quinn began to crawl toward her husband, but Rachel placed her hand on her shoulder, which stopped her without any force.

Rachel cleared her throat before speaking into the phone. "Hi, uh, a man has been stabbed. In self defense. He tried to kill me."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: Hey, guys! Glad you enjoyed the last chappie. Here's the next one! :D

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><p>"All right, Quinn." Officer Creed closed his notebook. "I think that's it for now. We'll see you tomorrow at the station at one, okay?"<p>

Quinn nodded and glanced around. She hated hospitals. She wanted to go home. Well, not home. She couldn't go home. "Yeah."

"You have somewhere to stay tonight?" he asked her.

"I think so, yeah." She would have to talk to Rachel.

"We're gonna ask that you leave your children with their grandparents until this investigation is through," Creed told her.

The blonde was suddenly back at full attention. "What?"

He could tell she was immediately panicked. "We just want to be sure the children have been safe—"

"Of course they have been," Quinn cut him off quickly. "He didn't touch them."

"Right, and we want to be sure of that." Creed tried to ease her by using a softer tone.

Quinn shook her head slightly. "So I can't see my kids?"

"You can see them, they just can't stay with you," Creed explained. "Only for a few days, as long as everything checks out."

"No," she refused.

"Quinn." Rachel was suddenly at her side. Quinn turned to see her through her non-swollen eye. She looked exhausted.

"Let go," the blonde commanded, shrugging off Rachel's hand on her shoulder.

"Come on," Rachel insisted, taking her hand now. "We're gonna get some rest."

"They won't let me have my kids." She looked to the officer, raising her voice. "They're _my_ kids!"

"I know that, ma'am, but for their safety, we need to make—"

"My kids are safe with me," she said loudly, wanting him to understand. She needed her kids with her.

Rachel brushed some of the blonde hair back, away from Quinn's face. "Quinn, honey, it's only for a little while. Let's go."

She shook her head. "Rachel, my kids are all I have."

"They're not going anywhere," the brunette replied. "It's fine, I promise."

The blonde sucked in a breath and nodded, giving in and allowing Rachel to take her away. Officer O'Neill stepped up beside Officer Creed as they watched them go.

"We'll see you tomorrow, too, Ms. Berry," O'Neill called out.

Rachel turned slightly and nodded back at the officers before turning the corner with Quinn and moving toward the elevators. She wasn't concerned. Well, she was a little concerned. She thought this might turn out bad for her, but honestly, it was self defense. She just hoped there was more than just Quinn's account of what happened to prove that.

"Officer O'Neill said that he's out of surgery and he'll be fine," Rachel told Quinn.

"Oh good." The blonde's tone was distracted.

"I'm gonna get you out of here." Rachel slipped her arm around Quinn's backside. She was worried she might fall over. She looked like she was going to.

"Okay."

"And away from him," Rachel added.

"Okay."

Rachel stepped into the elevator with Quinn and pressed the button. She eyed up the other woman. She didn't look good at all. She tried to think of something to say, but she was drawing a blank. Once they arrive at the ground floor, Rachel led Quinn toward her car. The blonde followed without a word and was silent in the car as the brunette drove away from the hospital.

"So... do you want to go to my dads' or your mom's?" she finally asked.

"No," Quinn answered. "No one can see me like this."

Rachel glanced over at her. "Quinn, it's okay."

"It's not," the brunette replied.

"All right." Rachel paused a moment. "A hotel then."

"I don't have money, Rachel," Quinn told her bitterly. "I don't have my kids. I don't have anything."

"You'll get your kids in a few days," Rachel assured her. "And don't worry, I'll take care of it. I have to stop by my dads.' Get us some clothes. Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Want something to eat?" she asked. "I can stop somewhere for fast food."

"Not hungry," the blonde muttered.

"You need to eat." Quinn didn't respond, so Rachel continued talking. "My dads cooked me a feast for coming home. I told them not to, especially with Thanksgiving next week. We have tons of leftovers. I'll bring those. I'm sure the hotel has a microwave." She paused. "It's all vegan, but it's still good."

Quinn still didn't respond and Rachel left it at that. When they arrived at her dads' house, she left Quinn in the car to get the leftovers and some clothes for the both of them. She returned ten minutes later with her suitcase and a small duffle bag. She placed both in the trunk and then got back into the driver's seat.

She pulled out onto the road and began driving again. "There's a Holiday Inn ten minutes away. I didn't even know that."

The blonde was still silent.

"It's weird being back home." The silence was kind of unsettling. "I'm glad I came to visit though. My dads were so happy."

"Rachel?" Quinn finally spoke up.

"Yeah?" The brunette glanced over at her.

"Shut up."

Rachel fell quiet for the rest of the drive. Once in the hotel room, Rachel began to unpack the leftover food from the duffle bag. Quinn disappeared into the bathroom and the shower turned on. The brunette let out a heavy sigh and sat down at the table. This was all a fucking mess. She wasn't even hungry herself anymore.

She wished she had known. She wished she had been able to save Quinn from all of this. If only she had convinced her to forget Michael, to go to New York with her. If she had, things would have been so different. They might still be together, they'd have raised that beautiful girl, and Quinn would never had have to experienced such Hell.

Rachel had abandoned her. That's what happened. Quinn felt stuck with a baby and went with Michael and Rachel just left. If she had stayed... well, why would she have stayed? Quinn chose Michael. Rachel really had no reason to stay. But if she had... she could have helped.

She couldn't change the past. She had to remember that. She couldn't change the past and she was doing what she could for Quinn now.

With another sigh, Rachel began to pile some food onto her plate and used the microwave to heat it all up. She realized she forgot to bring something to drink. She had everything else. The fridge was stocked though and Rachel really didn't care about paying four dollars for a bottle of water right now. She took one of the bottles with her as she brought her heated food to the table.

After she finished eating, she began to clean up a little. The bathroom door opened and Quinn stepped out in a towel. Rachel offered her a small smile and tried not to stare at the visible bruises. "Want me to make you a plate?"

"I told you I wasn't hungry," Quinn said.

"You have to eat something," Rachel insisted. "All you had was soup today."

"I'm really not hungry, Rachel, please." She sighed. "Can have I just have some clothes so I can sleep?"

"Yeah."

The brunette moved to the suitcase and fished out a pair of her pajamas. She held out the pants and tank top to Quinn. The blonde took them and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes before emerging in Rachel's clothes. She quickly took the closest bed and climbed under the covers, pulling them up over her head to block out the light.

Rachel packed up the food and put it in the fridge before getting pajamas for herself. She turned off the lights before going into the bathroom. She showered and changed into the clean clothes and then headed back into the hotel room. She sighed quietly as she moved to the other bed and went under the covers. She yawned and turned onto her side, trying to get comfortable.

"You wanted to do it."

Quinn's voice startled Rachel. She had been sure Quinn would have been asleep by now.

"You tried to kill him," Quinn said.

"I didn't," Rachel replied, turning over in bed to look at the one Quinn was in. "I was protecting myself. And you."

"You said the only way to stop him was to kill him and then you stabbed him," Quinn reminded her.

Rachel was quiet for a moment. "Are you mad I did it?"

"He's my husband."

"Who beats you for no reason," the brunette added.

"There's always a reason. Just like there was a reason you stabbed him."

Quinn was sitting up now and looking toward Rachel's bed. The brunette sat up as well and could make out Quinn's outline in the dark.

"I stabbed him because he tried to stab me first and then he was going to choke me," Rachel told her. "You saw that."

"You wanted to do it though," Quinn insisted.

"No, I didn't," Rachel replied.

Quinn shook her head. "You're lying. You said you'd do it."

"Did you... did you tell the police that?" Rachel had a moment of panic. "That I said the only way to stop him was to kill him. And... and that I'd do it?"

"No," Quinn said softly after a long moment. And then she began to cry.

Rachel slid from her bed and sat on Quinn's, pulling the blonde into her. She stroked her wet hair slowly.

"It's okay, Quinn," she said softly.

"It's not." The blonde sobbed.

"It will be okay," Rachel corrected.

"It won't." She sniffled.

"Honey..." Rachel continued to stroke her hair. "Sweetheart... It's going to be okay, I promise."

Quinn held onto Rachel tighter. "I just want my kids."

"I know. You'll have them back in a few days. Maybe tomorrow for all you know." Rachel was trying to make her feel better. She just wanted Quinn to stop crying.

"What if they won't let me have them?" That could happen, she knew. Michael could make that happen.

"Of course they will." Rachel looked down at her. "I mean... he never hit them, did he? Like, ever?"

"No. Never." She sniffled again.

"Okay. Then you'll get your kids back. Don't cry, Quinn... Sh..."

Quinn wanted to stop crying, but she couldn't. It was a long day. Waking up on the floor with Rachel beside her, her husband threatening to kill her, Rachel stabbing him, the ambulance, the cops, the hospital...

"Here..." Rachel pulled away so that she could get under the covers. She laid down and pulled Quinn into her, holding her. She started stroking her hair again as Quinn pressed herself into Rachel, still crying. "Shhh... it'll be okay. I promise. It'll be okay." She fell quiet now and just held her, one hand stroking her hair while the other just held her.

* * *

><p><strong>More AN**: Hey, guys. So I know these are pretty intense subjects and you should know that if you need help, there are people out there who will help you.

Rape/Sexual Assault: http:/www(DOT)rainn(DOT)org/get-help/sexual-assault-and-rape-international-resources

Domestic Violence: http:/www(DOT)vachss(DOT)com/help_text/domestic_violence_

Stay safe, loves.


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